


Collateral Damage

by JezebelGoldstone



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Getting Together, Love Confessions, Love Declarations, M/M, No Homophobia, Romance, Self-Esteem Issues, So much sweetness, Some Sex, Superfamily, Swearing, True Love, a couple other subtle references, a lot of the normal 'Wade is in this story' warnings, brief mention of hiding in the closet, but don't worry that sure doesn't last long, certain people are Not Pleased, really subtle Night Vale reference, see if you can spot them all, some gore, timefuck, wade and spidey and the avengers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:21:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23597530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JezebelGoldstone/pseuds/JezebelGoldstone
Summary: Peter says, "Okay, your turn. Why areyouhere withme?"Wade shrugs. "You're not like other spiders."Peter's heart flips in his chest.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, very background - Relationship
Comments: 41
Kudos: 421





	Collateral Damage

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case anyone is wondering: the next parts of both the Western AU and the Between verse are chugging right along! I can still make no promises as to when they'll be posted, but posted they will be!
> 
> Many, many thanks to Brigid for the beta. Any and all remaining mistakes and confusionings are my own.
> 
> Ubiquitous plug: if you like queer things, Charite at War is on Netflix and has one of the best queer relationships I've ever seen in film. Admittedly the queer relationship is not the focus of the entire story, but it does involve one of the two main characters and is a driving force in a lot of the plot. If there was a queer version of the Bechdel Test, Charite at War would pass it. (Actually, it passes the actual Bechdel Test, too, and quickly at that.) I'm not sure if this is a point in favor or not, but I've also already posted a Charite at War fic, and I'm working on a few others as well. So. Know that if you Ship It, there is at least some Content.

Westley took her in his arms. "Child; sweet child. I did not come across the world to lose you now."  
Buttercup was searching somewhere for a sufficiency of courage. Evidently, she found it in his eyes.  
- _The Princess Bride_ , S Morgenstern (edited & abridged by William Goldman)

The very first time they meet the church bells are ringing.

Later, when he's going over and over every minute detail in his head, sometimes Peter will think of funeral bells. Sometimes he'll think of weddings. Sometimes think of the Angelus. Sometimes he'll think about how bells don't tell you a damn thing unless you already know what to expect. Mostly, though, he'll just think it sounded pretty: the roar of adrenaline in his ears and the nerve-tensing silence after a fight knocked off course and smoothed over by the rolling of the bells, bells, bells.

But he doesn't know any of that yet. Doesn't know that he'll have reason, later, to think again and again on what's about to happen to him. Because right now the fight has just _ended_ , and usually it's the fights that have all the important parts; the fights are what keep him up at night playing on a loop in front of his eyes.

And he doesn't know it yet, but this time...

Peter lands on the sidewalk just as the new guy somersaults out of an alley and comes up on one knee with his arms outflung and jazz-hands. Peter has just enough time to meet the guy's eyes through the rip in his mask (dark, dark eyes) when the church bells begin ringing.

"Hey," and instead of demanding to know who the idiot that stole his costume concept is Peter says, "I wonder for whom the bell tolls."

"Oh," the guy breathes, like he's just seen something really, really amazing, but he's still kneeling there looking at Peter, so who knows what he's thinking. "You can hear them too? Sweet!"

Peter laughs. "You hear a lot of things other people don't?"

The guy finally gets to his feet and nods solemnly. "It's cool, though. I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed and I get along with the boxes inside of my head. Well. Mostly."

"Right," says Peter. "You're not crazy, you're just a little unwell?"

The guy pulls a face. Peter knows this because the guy's mask clings and conveys expression a _lot_ better than Peter's does, which is totally not fair. How on earth did he get it to do that and not suffocate him?

"Ew," says the guy. "Matchbox Twenty? Really? Lame, Spidey-poo."

"One," says Peter, "never call me that again. And two, Unwell is amazing. Matchbox Twenty is whatever, but Unwell is an awesome song and you secretly love it and you know it."

Peter's joking, totally joking, but what the guy says is, "You know, I think this is the first time I've pretended to not like something that I do in fact like just to try and impress someone. But what can I say? A man could do far worse things after being so shook by the sight of your magnificent ass in spandex."

And with that he sketches a little bow and somehow vanishes into the night. Peter can't do aught but gape after him.

* * *

"We have _got_ to find a way to kill him so he stays dead," Tony says to Steve over the comms when Deadpool shows up to a fight. Steve can't always tell when Tony's joking and when he's not, but this is something they've all discussed at length.

"SHIELD's working on it," Steve says. "For now just try and limit his collateral damage and focus on the mission."

"Roger that, Rogers," Tony and Bucky say at the same time, and Steve rolls his eyes.

No one else says anything, and later Steve's going to wish he'd paid more attention to that part.

* * *

Peter lets out a sigh.

Wade whispers, "Peter?"

"Mmm?" Peter asks.

Wade takes a deep, shaky breath.

* * *

After that first meeting, Spiderman and Deadpool see each other during a few more fights - a few fights with villains, one or two fights with each other, those mainly on the subject of killing - and then they see each other at what should have been a fight except they get there too late. That's when Peter and Wade see each other for real. And then there are more fights, and they see each other at those and between those, too. With civvies and terrible food and really awesome movies. They fight with each other some more, but these fights mostly involve popcorn. One time guacamole. That makes a huge mess but it's at Wade's place and Wade just laughs and laughs.

* * *

There's something untouchably soft in the granite of Wade's expression, something so weary and sad in the corners of his eyes and the line of his mouth, and he looks like every good thing Peter's ever had and he _will not lose him_.

* * *

"You know," Peter says with an exaggeratedly patronizing smile, "you're not like other girls."

Wade points his spoon at him. A gloop of ice cream flies off it and narrowly misses Peter's hand on the table. "I'm super offended," he says. "I totally want to be like other girls. Other girls are awesome."

It's not even that funny, but Peter's nearly in stitches he's laughing so hard.

"Well, that's all I've got," Peter says, putting an end to the topic they've been playing with for like half an hour. "Your turn. Why are you here with _me_?"

Wade starts viciously mixing his ice cream. If Peter asked why, he's sure Wade would say something about how the sprinkles are making the whole thing rainbow-colored, but he can tell that in actual fact Wade just doesn't want to meet his eyes.

Wade shrugs. "You're not like other spiders."

* * *

There's two kinds of Wade Chatter: I'm Happy and Content and So I'm Not Going To Keep Anything to Myself Because There is No Danger, and then there's Keep Talking So No One Can Tell It Hurts.

* * *

And they kiss and they laugh and they fuck and they snark and it's wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. The world is perfect, perfect, perfect. It's nothing like Peter ever dreamed. It's like all the _best parts_ of everything Peter never let himself dream got swirled together and poured into a six-foot-plus package of hilarious sarcasm and gorgeousness and whoop-ass and Peter's crazy about him. Doesn't see how he could be anything else.

* * *

Once they (finally) start fucking they fuck a _lot_ , everywhere and in all kinds of positions, fast and furious and snarky and stupid and astoundingly _fun_ and just -

"We have _got_ to find a way to kill him so he stays dead," Tony says over the comms when Wade shows up at a fight. Usually when he says things like this he's joking, but.

"SHIELD's working on it," Steve says. "For now just try and limit his collateral damage and focus on the mission."

Peter doesn't say anything.

* * *

Peter realizes that he's not glaring so much as he's trying to fight off tears and that Wade can tell.

* * *

They've been dating for three weeks and Peter's having the time of his life. Being with Wade is just so - the things Peter thought would be easy are incredibly difficult but so worth it, and the things Peter thought would be almost insurmountable are just _easy_. They haven't had sex yet, and every time he starts worrying that Wade doesn't _want_ to sleep with him - wants someone better-looking, or more experienced, or something - the next time he sees Wade he'll inevitably be bowled over yet again by the way Wade looks at him, the ridiculous things he says and does just to make Peter laugh, the way he'll touch Peter's hand or back so gently.

Wade asked him to watch the sunset together tonight and Peter laughed and said yes, but Wade wasn't joking. So here they are: sitting on the edge of the roof of a skyscraper, watching the daylight fade in spectacular oranges and purples and reds, with huge bags from three different Mexican food trucks behind them.

Peter absolutely _loves_ eating together with Wade.

"I'm telling you it's true," Peter says, gesturing with a half-eaten burrito, "if you go to a Mexican food truck staffed only with women they seriously do treat you like you're a cute toddler! Even if you're drunk!"

"Bullshit." Wade's definitely just trying to get a rise out of him.

"Not bullshit!" Peter cries. "Gabriel Iglesias speaks nothing but truth!"

They're both in their costumes - Peter because he's the one who got them up here, though they're high up enough that he's taken off his mask, and Wade because he's pretty much always in his costume.

Peter absolutely loves eating together with Wade because Wade will roll his mask up over his nose and Peter can see part of his face. He tries not to stare, knowing it'll make Wade uncomfortable, but he can't help it. Seeing Wade's mouth moves as he speaks, the flick of his tongue as he licks sauce off his glove, the shape of his chin, the movement of his jaw, his lips - Jesus, his _lips_ -

Peter says, "Hey, Wade?" and when Wade turns towards him Peter kisses him.

Just barely. Nothing heavy. No tongue. All he does is press his lips firmly to Wade's for about two seconds. It's hardly even a kiss, really. But holy god does it do things to Peter's insides.

As quick as he darts in he sits back, and Wade doesn't move. Like really doesn't move. If he weren't still sitting up Peter might be afraid he'd died again.

"Um," says Peter.

Wade still doesn't say anything.

After a few minutes Peter says, "Uh, Wade? Could you say something, please? I - I'm not sorry I kissed you, but I'm sorry I did without asking first. If you don't want to - I mean just let me know. If that's not. Something you want."

"What? No," Wade says - but then doesn't say anything else.

"I'm - not sure what that means? In context? Like are you saying no I'm wrong that you might not want this or no you don't want this or even no -"

Breathless, Wade says _"Oh my god,"_ and kisses him.

* * *

The Avengers say horrible things. Yes, okay, Peter says horrible things and Wade's running commentary is orders of magnitude more fucked up than a normal person's, but. It's not so much that what the Avengers _say_ is terrible, it's how much they _mean_ it.

And it's not that Wade doesn't mean half the shit he says. He totally does. 'Guts for garters' is, tragically, _not_ just a phrase when it passes his lips. It's just that when Wade says terrible shit, he also forgets about it two seconds later.

The Avengers, though. It's a running thing with them. They really _mean_ it. They're _planning_. They honestly want Wade "defeated" (read: dead) (no. Read: murdered), and they don't know how to make it stick. So it's an ongoing problem that's led to an ongoing discussion consisting of updates on their research and an expanding laundry list of why it's _justified_.

And, yeah, okay, Wade does a lot of collateral damage, but fuck it's _so_ much better than it used to be and how can no one else see that goddamnit Wade's _trying_ -

* * *

"Hey," Peter whispers, and Wade doesn't look at him but he does hold out his hand, so Peter collapses onto him and Wade tugs until he's curled up in Wade's lap against his chest, cradled warm and safe away from the world.

* * *

In King City Deadpool walks towards them and the world burns.

The Avengers are rushing forward but it's all too late, all too late. Everything's over now. There are still explosions detonating left, right, and center, and countless bodies scattered and smoldering. Where the ground isn't black it's red. And through it all, walking on the fire like it's goddamn water, Deadpool strides through the inferno with Spiderman cradled in his arms.

Steve's in the front and it's a good thing, because most of the others would probably punch Deadpool in the face if they got close enough. The carnage around them, the property damage, the numberless dead, not to mention whatever the fuck he's done to Spiderman - yeah, it's a good thing Steve's in front. Because Steve may have anger issues, but he's also one of the best of them at prioritizing, and right now poor sweet Spidey is the priority.

Deadpool strides towards them silhouetted in flames and wreathed in oily smoke and it looks like he's got not a scratch on him beneath all the soot and the blood of others. But when Steve reaches him Deadpool gently, so _gently_ , puts Spiderman in Steve's arms, and then his legs give out beneath him and suddenly they can see that Deadpool is missing chunks. Like a lot of him is just - missing. And he's not just walking through smoke; he is, apparently, on fire.

Steve bends down, half to see if Spiderman's okay and half to check on Deadpool, and there's this noise from the huge building in front of them that Deadpool carried Spiderman out of, and before Steve can even look Deadpool puts his hand on the back of Steve's neck and _pulls_.

Steve falls to his knees with Spiderman cradled between them, puts the shield behind Deadpool's shoulders and angles it to cover both of their heads and as much of Spiderman as possible, but there's not much else he can do. There's another explosion, the building comes down, and just because of the way they're positioned Deadpool takes the brunt of it. The noise is incredible until it's gone, and then the silence sounds like far-away church bells ringing. When Steve can bring himself to look Deadpool is just bloody Swiss cheese and he's not breathing but one of his hands is locked around Spiderman's wrist.

Later, Steve's going to wish he'd paid more attention to that part.

* * *

It's all a jumble, a whirl, fucking and fighting and sometimes Wade's manic and sometimes he's calm and sometimes he's hysterically funny and sometimes he's just hysterical and sometimes he's running away and sometimes he's running towards and sometimes he breaks Peter's heart but only because sometimes Wade's so fucking _sad_ and it's all Wade's laugh and fire and blood and everyone else and all the world but tucked away hidden in the center of it all is them, them, them, and far away the church bells are always ringing, ringing, ringing.

* * *

All Peter can take in is the way Wade's eyes flick to his face and then away, and the way his mouth goes tight at the corners and his shoulders hunch up.

* * *

They're immersed in darkness and fucking.

Immersed in darkness and Peter is warm and shivery everywhere their skin touches, everywhere Wade's hands rub and his mouth kisses. There's no air around them, not anymore; there's nothing but breath and sweat and liquid need, like their body heat has become a palpable thing, touching them even where they can't quite touch each other.

Immersed in darkness and it doesn't matter because Peter's eyes are closed, squeezed shut like he can hide himself from what's happening - except no, no, not like that, that's wrong; more like - like he can hide himself away _in_ what's happening. Hide himself away in Wade's arms and movements and muffled endearments, like Peter would never have to face the world again if only he could find some way to burrow under Wade's skin and wrap himself right around his heart.

Wade tightens his arms around Peter's chest and stills for a moment, exhaling shakily against Peter's cheek. Peter turns his head, desperate, his hands already clutching at any bit of Wade he can reach, and Wade meets him with a breath, a slide of lips, a deep roll of tongue followed by a deep roll of hips. Peter sobs into his mouth and Wade does it again, and again, and again -

Immersed in darkness and Peter's never felt so close to another human being in all his life. Never knew he _could_ feel this close to someone else; never realized there was still gaping space between he and Wade until, with naught but warmth and darkness and the shaking carefulness of Wade's hands, it was gone.

* * *

Someone tries to take a selfie, and Wade flinches. Peter sees red.

* * *

One thing Peter never thought he'd have to do was hide in the closet. Not a literal closet; he admits hiding in a literal closet is a possibility if only because, well, superhero. Anything could happen. But shoving himself into the figurative closet? Never even crossed his mind.

Peter's never been in the figurative closet a day in his life, and he doesn't really know how he ended up in there now. And it's not that he doesn't know _why_ , it really is just the _how_ that escapes him.

The _why_ is currently wearing half the Deadpool suit, high heels, both katanas and a floral apron while baking a Mexican pie (Wade's invention) and singing Chromaggia. Peter is chilling on the kitchen ceiling and rocking the heart-eyes _hard_. He had no idea Wade could sing opera contralto like that.

The other part of the _why_ is currently texting him, the Avengers logo popping up on his phone while God Save the Queen plays (he and Wade are in some kind of Stupid Ringtone prank war and Peter's never been so in love).

The _why_ is every terrible thing the Avengers have ever said about Wade, and Peter just doesn't want them to know. Couldn't stomach what he knows would happen after. So he's tied himself up and locked himself in the figurative closet and thrown away the key, all in a desperate bid to keep them from figuring out who it is Peter was practicing making web-roses for last week.

And, well, if toxic cisheteronormativity exists, surely every once in a while it deserves to be used to help a queer keep a queer?

* * *

Wade just gets up and walks away. Peter stares after him and doesn't know what just happened there.

* * *

One time, before they move in together, Peter opens the door to Wade's apartment and finds him cackling.

"I found it!" he gasps from where he's literally lying on the floor with tears in his eyes.

"Found what?" Peter asks.

"Look at this! Look at this!" Wade shoves his phone at Peter's face and Peter narrowly avoids getting hit in the nose.

After he takes the phone from Wade and lights the screen he sees Wade's tumblr dashboard. The post he's looking at says "sexuality: sometimes."

"That," Wade says, leaning his head against Peter's shoulder and jabbing a finger at the screen happily, "is the single best way to describe my sexuality I've ever heard."

"How, exactly?" Peter asks. They've never actually talked about labels before.

"Ask me if I'm gay," says Wade.

Peter gives him a look. "Are you gay?"

 _"Sometimes!"_ Wade roars, then falls over laughing again.

They keep going like that for a while, because they're both secretly twelve. Peter ends up Googling lists of sexual orientations just so Wade can say he's all of them sometimes. A little while later they're lying head to head on the floor, giddy and dizzy with laughter, and Peter chuckles, "You know, I think this describes way more about you than just your sexuality."

Which is what turns the word 'sometimes' into a running meme with them. Two months later they're at a point where any question that could even KIND OF be answered with 'sometimes' is reflexively, and they barely even laugh anymore because they're so used to it. They're talking about something else entirely and Peter manages to work yet another cultural reference into their conversation by clasping his hands and saying, "You like me! You really like me!"

And Wade smiles and looks at him and says, "All the time."

Peter's knocked off his feet by that. And not just because Wade could have conveyed the same sentiment _and_ used a cultural reference himself if he'd said 'Always.'

Holy fuck. Wade's in love with him.

* * *

Peter's life is a jumble of the good, the bad, the coyote ugly, and - happiness. Peter's so happy he doesn't really know what to _do_ with himself. Even though it's all fucked up (everything is _so_ fucked up) and he's terrified that it's all going to get taken away he's so, so happy.

* * *

Peter sits in the living room in the dark, wondering what the problem is. Why won't - God, Wade won't look at him. _Refuses_ to look at Peter when either of them come, and - Is it just Peter's face? Is - Is Wade actually thinking of someone else? Or maybe not even anyone specific, but is he imagining someone who's simply Not Peter? Is he imagining someone with things Peter just doesn't have? A man with huge muscles, or a woman with gorgeous breasts, or -

From out of the darkness Wade whispers, "What is it, baby boy?"

That's the problem. Peter doesn't know what it is.

Peter shakes his head to say it's nothing and wipes his eyes frantically, like that'll somehow convince Wade he was never crying in the first place.

There's barely any sound, any movement of air, but all at once Wade is beside him and behind him and wrapping around him, and Peter whispers, "It's nothing, babe, it's just -" and then he can't say the rest.

"Just everything, right?" Wade asks.

"Yeah," Peter says. "Sure."

Wade doesn't ask him for details, doesn't ask him to go back to bed, doesn't ask if there's anything he can do, doesn't ask anything of Peter at all. Just sits there and holds him until Peter's ready to decide what he wants to do. And Peter wonders, sometimes, how he ever got this lucky, and how he ever managed to think that Wade Wilson was anything other than one of the most amazing, big-hearted, genuine people in all the world.

They're still huddled in their one and only armchair as they watch the sun rise.

* * *

Peter says, "Your turn. Why are you here with _me_?"

* * *

There are a lot of things about Wade and their relationship that Peter didn't expect, most of them good, but this is what completely blindsides him:

Wade is violent. Reading between the lines of every story Wade's ever told him about his life, Wade has always been violent. His life was more violent than even your typical vigilante's long before Wade was big enough to perpetrate most of that violence himself. Everything hurts: dying and coming back, regenerating limbs and organs and bones, the way everyone - friend and foe alike - lays hands on him, the constant spontaneous ripping and healing of his skin.

And, yes, Wade and Peter don't hurt each other on purpose, but they are both super-powered vigilantes who love a good knock-out throw-down brawl. They goof off with each other, smacking each other upside the head and poking each other in annoyance and roughhousing like a pair of ten-year-olds, breathless with laughter.

All this, and what stops Peter's breath in his throat is how Wade touches him: gently, reverently even, and sometimes his hands are steady and sometimes they shake, but always Wade touches him like he is the most precious, valuable thing in all the world. No one's ever touched Peter like he's worth so much, and Peter's never felt more awesome or more awestruck than he does with Wade's hands on him.

* * *

One bright day the bad parts of the world run smack dab into the good like a fucking meteor breaking Pangea.

One moment Peter and Wade are surrounded by friends and the next they're surrounded by enemies because they're in the common room in the Tower and the Avengers have just figured out that Wade and Peter are a Thing.

Peter jumps in front of Wade and Thor only _barely_ doesn't whack them with _fucking Mjolnir_ and Tony's threatening to shoot Peter with low-powered repulsors to get him away from the mercenary and Steve's about to drag him away like his maiden daughter he's just found in the arms of Lord Byron and then Natasha puts up her hands and walks forward warily.

"I get it," she says, and her voice is quiet enough that everyone instinctively calms just a bit to hear her. Peter's looking at her desperately, an island of sanity amidst the violence, but then she says, "I get it, I do. It was fun, right? It was subversive. Naughty. I _understand_. And I understand why you'd want to protect yourself from telling anyone -"

And Peter splits down the middle and yells, "I wasn't protecting me, you utter _asshat_ , I was protecting _him_!"

Tony shouts, "He doesn't need protecting, Pete, he's fucking _Deadpool_ -"

"That's exactly it!" Peter shouts right back. Wade is worryingly silent and tugging on his shoulder, but Peter is _done_. So done. "Yes! Exactly! God, would you _listen_ to yourselves! You wanna know why I didn't tell anyone? Huh?" And Wade's hand goes slack.

Peter's screaming, now, screaming on the top of his lungs and jabbing a finger at each of them in turn. The Avengers look completely taken aback. No one tries to interrupt his tirade, not even Wade.

"You wanna know why I've been doing this?" Peter screams. "You wanna know why I've been fucking _playing straight_ all this time? It sure as fuck ain't for my health! Maybe it was because I was worried Clint would shoot him. Or Natasha would cut off something new every time she saw him. Or that Bruce wouldn't be able to hear his name without Hulking out. Or that Thor would fly him to Everest and put Mjolnir on top of him and no one would tell me where he was.

"Maybe I was worried that Tony Stark," and Peter's voice is really bitter right now, but fuck everything this is the truth and he _wants_ it to hurt. "Tony Stark, king of pissy verbal eviscerations, would rip him up somewhere it don't grow back. Maybe I was worried that Captain America, _his idol_ , king of saying unkind things so kindly that no one can spot the difference, would sit him down and pound into his head that he's a horrible person who's unworthy of any good thing and that for the sake of _me_ he ought to just up and vanish into the night!

"Maybe it makes me sick to think that every single person he admires is going to give him the shovel talk to end all shovel talks and that _not one single person_ is _ever_ going to threaten _me_ to keep him happy! But I gotta say you guys rose above all that admirably, really earned your hero status, I'm so relieved that I was so wrong about - _oh wait_."

" -Peter!" Wade finally manages to pull his shoulder hard enough to turn him, though Peter keeps his eyes on the Avengers.

"Look, Peter," Tony starts.

"No," says Peter. "You know what? Fuck you. Fuck all of you. C'mon, Wade."

Peter gets three paces away and the silence in the room is deafening. Not quite so deafening, though, as when Wade says: "No."

"What?" Peter squawks, turning to face him. Wade hasn't moved. He wasn't following. He and Peter are ten feet apart, and Wade is standing close to the Avengers while Peter is on the other side of the room and it's just so many kinds of fucked up.

"No," Wade repeats, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm not leaving."

"Why _not_?" Peter cries. "Dude, let's just go!"

"Look," says Wade, and oh no, Jesus Christ no, he's not talking in cartoon references and innuendos, he's not calling Peter something cute or stupid or both, he's _being serious_ , this is bad, this is _so_ bad. "Okay, so this didn't happen the way we wanted it to. Nothing ever does, babe. So now we deal with how it did happen."

"There's nothing to deal with!" Peter says. "I've done nothing _but_ deal with this for months! And you know what? I'm done! Okay? I. Am. _Done_. I am so done with their hypocritical, hypercritical, smugly superior bullshit. I'm out, babe."

"Okay," says Wade. "I understand. I get it; I do. You know what you need better than I do, and if what you need is to leave then I won't try to stop you. I support you," and there's the ghost of a smile long-dead on his lips when he says it, like he's quoting something to be funny and can't quite remember how it goes. "But I'm gonna stay here and talk this out. I'll come find you when we're done, all right?"

"And how long will that be?" Peter shouts, getting right up in his face. He knows the Avengers are watching them like a tennis match (or a good fight) and he couldn't care less. Wade doesn't move. "How long d'you think it'll take to regenerate after this one, huh? How far away do you think they can get you before I start looking? How long d'you think the search will go on this time?"

Wade looks down at him, arms still crossed, not bending his head to get closer to eye-level. But there's something untouchably soft in the granite of his expression, something so weary and sad in the corners of his eyes and the line of his mouth, and he looks like every good thing Peter's ever had and he _will not lose him_.

But what Wade says is, "If they kill me, that's on them. But if I leave without even trying to explain myself, that's on me. And if we let this split up the boy band? That's on all of us."

"You don't owe them an explanation!" Peter says. "Jesus Christ, Wade, after everything they've put us through we don't owe them _anything_."

Wade says, "You're right. That's true. But baby boy," and he unfolds his arms and one of his hands brushes, very gently, against Peter's, "they're your family."

"They are _not_ my family," Peter hisses. Not just because he hates them all right now, but because his _real_ family -

"I know," says Wade, because he does. "Sounded good though, right?"

Peter huffs a laugh only because he can't help himself. He wants to tip forward and press his forehead to Wade's chest. He wants to punch Captain America in the mouth. He wants to curl up and close his eyes and just let go of all the useless anger and horrible stress and wake up to find out it was a dream, everything, all of it except Wade.

"Wade," says Natasha, her voice quiet and firm enough to not break the tension in the room. "Peter. Please stay. We would - _I_ would like to talk with you."

"Me too," Clint says immediately.

"And I," says Thor. Peter forgets sometimes just how quietly thunder can rumble.

The rest of them softly chorus their agreement. For a long, long moment, no one says anything else. He realizes they're all waiting to see what he'll say. Peter's still looking at Wade. Wade's still looking at Peter.

Whatever it is Peter needs to find in the rest of the world, he realizes right then that it's hidden somewhere in Wade's eyes.

"Fine," Peter says. " _Fine_. But anyone who comes within ten feet of him is getting webbed to the ceiling. I am not fucking joking."

"Okay," Tony says like he's gentling a wounded animal. "We promise. Okay."

* * *

Wade smiles and looks at him and says, "All the time."

Holy fuck. Wade's in love with him.

* * *

The first time Wade takes his mask all the way off in front of Peter on purpose is an otherwise ordinary Tuesday two months after they start dating, one month after they start kissing, and a while before they start fucking. They amble into Peter's apartment after doing a patrol together, casually kicking off boots and shaking off uncomfortable parts of costumes and poking through the fridge, deep into a conversation about something Peter forgets entirely when he turns around and sees Wade. Like, actual Wade. His real face. His whole entire head, even, since his mask isn't rolled up, it's just completely off.

Wade keeps talking about - whatever it was they were talking about, and Peter's sure whatever he's saying is very witty and funny, but all Peter can take in is the way Wade's eyes flick to his face and then away, and the way his mouth goes tight at the corners and his shoulders hunch up.

The thing is, Wade's hot in the costume, too. Fortunately Peter realized on their very first date that Wade is uncomfortable about his looks (though honestly before he hears the way other people talk to Wade Peter has a hard time figuring out why) so he didn't _say_ that Wade looks hot in his costume, because he didn't want Wade to think it was a hint to leave it on. But Wade Wilson? Grade-A Canadian beef. Built like a brick shithouse. The man is a slab of muscle with broad shoulders and a fantastic ass. And the way he moves? How he'll go from fight moves so insane they look more like airbending to skipping and shaking his hips? How is Peter supposed to function around that? So Peter's already trying not to salivate all over him like a creeper before he sees any of Wade's skin at all.

It's too late to play it casual; Peter's been standing here staring for far too long. He can't do what he _really_ wants, since it's so over-the-top fluffy that it would be impossible to get Wade to understand he was sincere. So he does the next best thing: staggers forward and reaches for Wade - at the last moment stops and rips his gloves off, and - puts his bare hands on Wade's bare face and _kisses_ him.

For a moment Wade doesn't move, but Peter's got both of his hands on the back of Wade's head and it's so much skin-on-skin contact, and there's no mask rough against his cheeks or forehead because there's no mask at _all,_ and Peter makes a helpless, overwhelmed noise into Wade's mouth and then gasps when Wade suddenly wraps his arms around him and pulls him close.

They kiss for ages, and Peter wants him so _badly_ that it takes a second for him to process what happened when Wade suddenly jerks away. Not far away - they're both still holding on to each other for dear life - but Peter leaves his lips to press kisses on his jaw and suck on his neck and Wade moves away from his lips.

Wade's looking at him, apprehensive, and Peter doesn't have the words to tell him how hot he is. It's staggering, how viscerally Peter's attracted to him, how overwhelming the need to get his mouth onto every inch of his skin is, how badly Peter wants to just stay right here forever with Wade right in front of him so Peter can just look.

Without meaning to Peter says, "Your eyes are so _dark_."

That startles a laugh out of Wade, and he shakes his head. Peter laughs, too, he's so giddy in love he can't even help it, and does something else he's been dreaming of and strokes Wade's cheek with the backs of his fingers.

Wade tilts his head to the side, watching him for a moment, and Peter doesn't even try to change anything about his expression, or hide anything he's feeling away.

After a moment Wade says, "Yeah, all right," and then they're kissing again, and Peter spends the entire night learning the topography of Wade's gorgeous face.

* * *

He doesn't say anything, but it must show on his face when he gets it because all of a sudden Wade kisses him and says, "It's okay, baby boy. You're an ass sometimes but I love you anyway."

* * *

The Avengers stop saying horrible things about the love of Peter's life outright, but if Wade thought one tense heart-to-bleeding-hearts would make them all suddenly lose their self-righteous ways he was sorely fucking mistaken. Because now they all talk loudly - not _to_ Peter, necessarily, but _near_ him, in that total nosy-mother-I-know-what-you-should-do-but-you-do-whatever-you-think-best-dear kind of way. And the content of that talk? Is just more of the same. Wade is unstable/immoral/a monster. And who's that cute new agent at SHIELD who likes photography? _Gasp_ and you say he's _single_?

"Y'know," Peter says, staring straight ahead with his elbows on his knees. He feels world-worn and weary and old, so old. "I find it ironic that the one thing you guys keep coming back to about him is that he doesn't care about collateral damage."

"We keep coming back to it because it's kind of a big deal," one of them starts. He's not sure which one. In this situation, right now, they're pretty much interchangeable.

Another one says, "How's that ironic?"

Peter huffs a bitter laugh, but doesn't otherwise move. "You're so busy angsting about your own dramatic redemption arcs you never stop to look for anyone else's. You're so fucking _busy_ being so _determined_ to do the one and only thing you know _how_ to do that all this time while you've been crushing the bad guy, crushing him the only way you can, you never stop to even _think_ about that poor innocent bystander you say you're trying to save. Because that bystander? While you're ostensibly trying to protect him, it turns out you're killing him instead."

Silence for a moment. Then Peter shakes his head, stands up, and walks away. No one calls out after him.

* * *

Peter thinks everything's fine, more than fine, but he wakes with a start and it's dark and warm and Wade's _not there_.

He stumbles into the living room and finds Wade sitting in their armchair, the blinds up, looking out over the city.

* * *

After this Thor and Clint seem to decide that, for whatever reason, Peter-and-Wade (official portmanteau pending) are acceptable. And, of course, in true Thor-and-Clint fashion, they seem to think the best way to show their support is via fratboy-type enthusiasm. So this is when the engagement questions begin. Every time one of them brings it up Wade and Peter won't even look at each other, but no one seems to get the hint. Peter kind of wants to die.

* * *

Someone tries to take a selfie, and Wade flinches. Peter sees red.

(And also almost throws up. But, you know. Who's counting.)

* * *

"I tried to break up with him once," says Deadpool out of the blue.

"Oh. Um. Really?" says Steve, who's the only other person around.

"Yep. Didn't stick. This was, oh, a little while after we became, y'know. Official and all. And I - yeah. Every terrible thing you've ever thought about me. It's all true, you know? All of it, and a shitton of other things that are worse than you could ever imagine, Cap. So yeah, I broke it off.

"And Peter," here he laughs and shakes his head. "That little shit wasn't having any of it. Absolutely _refused_ to agree that we'd broken up until I could convince him that I didn't have feelings for him anymore. And I could have, you know. I could have broken that poor kid's heart so thoroughly he'd never love anyone again, much less try to stay with me. But I've lived through everything that's ever happened to me and I knew I wouldn't be able to kill myself no matter how hard I tried, and I knew I also wouldn't be able to live with myself, so I didn't do it. I thought about it. But I didn't do it. I mean, that makes it sound like I'm growing up and becoming a real boy or some shit, but I promise it was purely selfish.

"So! Anyway! By the grace of Peter we didn't break up. I was going to take a job or twelve and get out of town for a while, but the kid wasn't having it. He said that no matter where I went he'd follow me, and I didn't want him mixed up in any of that, so. Yeah. I hung around."

He shakes his head again. "Oh my _god_ , was it awkward. Have you ever been in a room with two people who are desperately in love, even though one of them wants to break up and one doesn't, so now they're still together and they can't agree on any damn thing? Oh fuck, those were hands-down the most painfully awkward weeks of my entire _life_ , and I don't think I have to explain just how high _that_ bar was.

"And then one day he up and left." He shrugs. "Didn't come over, stopped answering my texts, full-on ghosted me, brah. And I thought he'd finally come to his senses, so I just - let it go. I let _him_ go, you know? Again with the whole trying-to-be-a-grown-up thing. Didn't work well for me. Radio silence for a week, man, before I finally caved. A whole week before I went looking for him. And I will never, ever forgive myself for that."

It slots into place with an audible _click_ in Steve's head. "King City," he gasps.

Deadpool nods. "King City."

Peter had been missing for a week before Steve and the rest of the Avengers found out he'd been kidnapped and was being held in King City. And when they got there they found Deadpool and a world set ablaze, and then -

After a moment Steve says, "You're not going to break up with him again, are you?"

And Deadpool laughs and shakes his head. "Nah," he says. "Don't have it in me, not anymore. I'm not leaving him till we're torn apart one way or another. Or until he asks me to go. Whichever comes first, I guess. But I am never going to change another thing about this whole _us_ thing for as long as I live."

"Okay," Steve says, using the voice he reserves for frightened civilians and hurt children and not understanding why. "Okay."

* * *

Breathless, Wade says _"Oh my god,"_ and kisses him.

* * *

Slowly, oddly, haltingly, the Avengers start becoming individuals again in Peter's head. He's worried that he's going as crazy as Wade, and then where will they be? Usually he only worries for a moment, though, because then his brain starts playing Funky Town in answer, so.

Anyway, the point is, this time he's very aware of the fact that it's the Avenger called Steve who tells him, "Wade told me he's not going to change anything about your relationship, you know."

Peter points at him and says, " _This_. Please, please, please, for the love of God All-fucking-mighty, find _some way_ to explain to Thor and Clint that _this_ is why _I cannot_ be the one who asks Wade to marry me!"

"Wait," says Steve. Pauses. Then, "Wait, what?"

Peter rolls his eyes and says, "Look, obviously I'll find _some_ way to cut off your balls if you ever even hit about this to Wade, but I _can't_ ask him to marry me. He has to - I have to love him well enough for him to start loving himself, and for him to understand that he _deserves_ good things. And I'll know it worked when he can _ask_ for the one thing he wants most in the world which, I'm flattered to say, is to marry me. See? I can't marry him until I know I'm good enough for him, and that I can love him as well as he deserves, and this is the ultimate proof. So it's _got_ to be him."

"Oh," says Steve. He sounds breathless. Peter can't even hear them, but he's struck with the knowledge that somewhere the church bells are ringing.

"On second thought," says Peter, shaking it off, "actually please don't tell anyone that, _especially_ Thor and Clint. It'll negate the whole thing if Wade finds out that I'd ask him myself in a split second if I was only thinking about what _I_ want, and there's no way those two idiots would be able to just leave it alone."

"Yeah," says Steve. "Yeah, okay. I'll just - keep that to myself then."

* * *

Wade shrugs. "You're not like other spiders."

Peter's heart flips in his chest. It's not the words; it's the tone. Because, as the bit of Peter's brain that is always playing the Princess Bride points out: what Wade said was ridiculous, but what he meant was "I love you."

* * *

In the middle of a conversation Wade makes some throwaway comment about how everyone the two of them work with (read: the Avengers) is so ridiculously _hot_ it's amazing either of them ever get any work done at all.

"Well, yeah, we are all super hot, but like," says Peter. "Isn't it weird how that works? That there are people in this world who are so _insanely_ hot - and yet, after you've spent a lot of time with them, their face is just kind of - their face. You memorize the lines and angles of it enough that it's not - I mean it's still lovely, but not the same way? Or something."

He blinks when Wade doesn't answer right away. And again when, after a moment, Wade just gets up and walks away. Peter stares after him and doesn't know what just happened there.

* * *

"Peter?" Steve says quietly.

"Yeah?"

They're watching Clint and Tony and Thor and Wade bellow Tubthumping for the fourth time, and no one's paying any attention to them.

Steve looks hesitant. It sits strangely on his shoulders. Peter just watches him out of the corner of his eye and tries not to get defensive before Steve's even said anything.

Finally Steve says, "The reasons you're not - that thing, that we talked about the other day?"

"Yeah," Peter says slow and wary.

"Is that - ah, is that a common practice these days? To wait? I mean, to wait for the reason you're waiting?"

And Peter looks at Steve - then up at Tony in front of everyone, and at Bucky huddled but _smiling_ on the couch, and thinks of church bells ringing - and says, "Not so far as I know. But. I mean. Every relationship is unique, and every person uses their own logic, right? I'm sure there are other people who are waiting for exactly the same reason I am, even if it's not like commonly portrayed in like the _media_ or something. Just like I'm sure there were people who followed this same logic when you were born, and before that, too."

He nods, and Peter wonders when Steve first heard the bells.

* * *

No one's ever touched Peter like he's worth so much, and Peter's never felt more awesome or more awestruck than he does with Wade's hands on him.

* * *

Peter's Completely Logical Reasons for Waiting are flawless, except for one minor thing: he doesn't always believe his own bullshit. Or at least he doesn't when they're having sex. Because Wade? _Still won't look at him_.

Peter knows, now - will never, ever doubt again - that Wade's not thinking of anyone else when they're together. Despite that, Peter knows for a fact that Wade still hasn't ever seen Peter's face when either of them come, because Peter's been keeping track.

* * *

The rest of the Avengers continue coming around to the idea of Peter-and-Wade (portmanteau still pending). Especially now that the two of them have Steve's utter and unswerving support.

Peter mentions to Wade that Steve asked him about modern-day engagement practices (doesn't go into specifics, of course). They speculate about who, exactly, Cap had in mind, and how long it'll take before anyone else finds out.

Oddly enough it's Wade who refuses to wager on any of it, and Peter's confused until he remembers Sister Margaret's, and then he just feels like an asshole.

He doesn't say anything, but it must show on his face when he gets it because all of a sudden Wade kisses him and says, "It's okay, baby boy. You're an ass sometimes but I love you anyway."

* * *

Someone tries to take a selfie, and Wade flinches. Peter sees red.

(And also almost throws up. But, you know. Who's counting.)

This is after everything else already happened, so things are supposed to be _good_. They've lived through King City, they've lived through The Great Coming Out to the Avengers, they've lived through an almost-breakup and a dramatic makeup and good sex and bad sex and fights with supervillains and disagreements that they didn't allow to devolve into fights with each other and things are supposed to be good, now, they're supposed to be _okay_.

Peter turns and leaves, and Wade follows. He doesn't speak on the way home and Wade keeps up a continual chatter. Which is bad, because there's two kinds of Wade Chatter: I'm Happy and Content and So I'm Not Going To Keep Anything to Myself Because There is No Danger, and then there's Keep Talking So No One Can Tell It Hurts. To people not in the know these sound exactly the same, but not to Peter. So Peter knows that what's happening right now is the second kind.

They walk into their apartment and as soon as the door closes Peter turns and shoves Wade against it, hands gripping his shoulders, and glares up at him. Wade's eyes go wide and he stops talking (which is even _worse_ than the second king of Wade Chatter), and Peter realizes that he's not glaring so much as he's trying to fight off tears and Wade can tell.

"Is that it?" Peter asks. "Seriously? It's because of your _face_?"

Except maybe he means it more like ' _your_ face.' He's not sure. Nothing is the way it's supposed to be.

Wade flinches - just a teensy bit, but it's there, the way it is whenever someone he trusts brings up his looks - and Peter's furious but his breath chokes on a sob.

"Peter," Wade says, and it's _really_ bad, because he _never_ says just 'Peter' unless one of them is dying. And he gently gathers Peter in his arms. "What's wrong, baby boy? Whatever it is, we can fix it. Or I can kill it. Or you can web it up and pout at it till it begs for mercy. Or you can just hold onto me until whatever it is goes away or until you can deal with it, okay? Whatever you need, baby boy. Whatever you need, I'm here."

How in _fuck_ did Peter get lucky enough to end up where he is?

Peter manages, "I th-thought it was _me_."

"Thought what was you, baby boy?"

"I thought - I mean, it was me, I can't believe - I cannot _believe_ that even after all this _time_ I still haven't figured out how to show you -" but by then the guilt is so crushing Peter can't breathe, much less speak.

"Show me what?" Wade asks. Still gently. Fuck everything.

" _Your face_!" Peter yells.

"What about my face?" Wade asks. He actually looks bewildered.

Peter leans back to look at him, and he's not really thinking about how unattractive he himself must be right now, with tears and snot running down his face and his eyes and nose all red and puffy. All he's thinking is "I REALLY LOVE YOUR FUCKING FACE!!"

Wade just keeps looking at him, but his expression doesn't even twitch, which means he's doing his best to not give anything away.

"I thought you didn't want me," Peter says. Wade makes a noise of inarticulate distress and Peter shakes his head. "Before King City. After that I just thought - I don't know what I thought. But you never - you never look at me. I thought you didn't want to see me."

"Oh, baby," Wade says, his face crumpling, and tries to draw Peter in.

"No!" Peter says, shoving at his shoulders just enough to keep him where Peter can see him. "You don't get it! I didn't understand, and I'm sorry! I thought - I just assumed that everything was about _me_. I didn't realize that I hadn't convinced you that you are _fucking hot_ , Wade Winston Wilson, you are the stuff wet dreams are made of, I just - I didn't realize the reason you weren't looking at me was because you thought _I_ didn't want to see _you_ \- And - oh God, oh _Christ_ , you tried to hide and I just _let_ you, what did you think I was - when I didn't even _try_ -"

"Jesus Christ." Wade pulls him in again and this time Peter goes, burying his face in Wade's throat and wrapping his arms around him to hold on tight as he can.

After a little while of just standing there with Wade holding his head and rubbing his back, Wade whispers, "I'm sorry, Peter."

"No!" Peter all but shouts. "Nuh-uh. No. You are not allowed to apologize for this."

"But -"

"Please, I won't be able to handle it," Peter begs, holding on tight again. "Please. I can't. I just. Please."

"I want to prove to you," Wade says against his forehead, "just exactly how hot I think you are. How much I love _your_ face."

Peter chuckles wetly against his suprasternal notch, then gets an idea.

"You know," he says, not pulling away but turning his head so they can kind of see each other, "we could jerk off without touching each other. Just, you know. Just looking."

A shudder goes through Wade at that, and Peter knows he picked up on what that would also mean: it would be a way for Peter to show just how turned on he is by _Wade_.

After a frozen second Wade exhales, then presses a kiss to Peter's hair. "Okay, baby boy," he says. "Anything for you."

And then they do. They strip and climb onto their bed, both of them completely naked, with Wade lying stiff on his back and Peter on hands and knees above him, barely touching him, both of them stroking off furiously, and Peter gets to watch Wade's face the whole time and it is _heaven_.

And afterwards Peter's collapsed on top of him, panting and kissing anything he can reach, and Peter says, "Sorry about that. I don't think I've gotten off that fast since I was about fourteen."

It's true, and Wade doesn't laugh, because they both hear what truth Peter's trying to tell and they both know that Wade's trying to bring himself to believe it.

* * *

Peter thinks everything's fine, more than fine, but he wakes with a start and it's dark and warm and Wade's _not there_.

He stumbles into the living room and finds Wade sitting in their armchair, the blinds up, looking out over the city.

"Hey," Peter whispers, and Wade doesn't look at him but he does hold out his hand, so Peter collapses onto him and Wade tugs until he's curled up in Wade's lap against his chest, cradled warm and safe away from the world.

Peter lets out a sigh of utter contentment.

Wade whispers, "Peter?"

"Mmm?" Peter asks.

Wade takes a deep, shaky breath, tightens his arms around Peter, and whispers: "Will you marry me?"

It's still night. There are stars outside the window.

Peter breathes, "Of _course_."

Wade lets out a shaky breath and presses his eyes to Peter's hair.

When the sun rises hours later they watch it together, and it feels like the very first dawn at the beginning of the world.

* * *

All of a sudden Peter starts laughing.

"What?" says Wade.

"I just realized," Peter says, laughter tapering off into chuckles. "I missed the most important part. The thing that foreshadowed everything else, you know?"

"Mmmmnope," Wade says against his temple. His hand is cupping Peter's jaw, his finger on the corner of Peter's lip, and he knows Wade is memorizing the feel of his smile.

"All this time," Peter says, "I thought the most important thing about when we met was that the bells were ringing."

"But that wasn't it?"

"Nope."

"What was, then?"

Peter nuzzles into Wade's throat and says, "The fact that you were down on one knee."

And then he smiles against Wade's bare skin and memorizes the feel of Wade's laughter rumbling in his chest.

* * *

When they get married everyone is there. Not a single awful word is said about either of the grooms. No one flinches when any pictures are taken. And the whole time - for the whole, entire day - Peter and Wade don't take their eyes off each other.


End file.
